BeachHead on the Battlefield
by willwrite4fics
Summary: BeachHead is one of my fav characters. Some BeachHead/CoverGirl, all battlefield action, showing how awesome the drill sergeant is in his element! He's the Army of One.
1. Chapter 1

Because I love the character, and he's way too awesome not to use.. here's a BeachHead story, on the battlefield. My "version" of the character is based directly on the comics/80s cartoon. For fans of BeachHead, the GI Joe:Reloaded series has some AWESOME story with him. Unfortunately it only ran 14 issues.

There's some BeachHead/CoverGirl. It's a pairing I'll be using. And... OMG!! Not one mention of Snake Eyes, nor ANY ninja action AT ALL!

I hope you enjoy it!

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BeachHead crouched behind a disabled Mauler tank. The treads on one side had been blown off, and the entire far side was peeled open by an explosive charge from a passing Cobra Rattler. He raised up quickly, scanning the battlefield.

They were not that far from the secret entrance to the Pit. Cobra had launched an all out offensive against the general area that the Joe's base was located at, but they didn't know exactly where it was, nor how to access it. Scarlett and Kamakura had gotten stolen information back to Hawk in time for them all to scramble out and meet the Cobra forces aboveground. Unfortunately for BeachHead, it interrupted his lunch he'd been sharing with CoverGirl. Yeah, it was the messhall, in the crowd of other Joes.. but she HAD been sitting at the table with HIM. But then Cobra had to come and mess with his... lunch. He frowned. It wasn't a date, just some lunch.. between two people. He growled lowly. Next thing he knew, the general alarms had gone off, and he had run off to find Hawk and be told what was going on.

BeachHead had managed to be everywhere at once, standing by with the commanding force to offer any advice on battlefield positions, out along the edges checking in with their scouting patrols, and in the fall-back position, checking that the fox holes and trenches were dug in deep and steep. His personal training regimen was geared exactly towards making certain he COULD be everywhere needed, without him becoming exhausted or rattled by the many different tasks he was charged with.

Hawk was the general in charge of everything, directing them to their positions. Duke had taken one flank, while BeachHead had the other. Flint was helping coordinate the battle by Hawk's side. BeachHead's flanking position protected the center of the Joe troops, and helped keep Cobra from running over Duke's more exposed position covering the command area in the rear center of the area. Right now, he and his dozen greenshirts were hunkered down behind the Mauler carcass, while he waited impatiently for someone to arrive with reinforcements or a resupply of ammo.

"Williams!! Get yer head down!" The greenshirt dropped automatically, and the bullets caroomed off the edge of the armor plating instead of biting through his torso. "You catch a bullet out here being careless, I'm leaving your sorry butt to bleed! You stick yer danged head up one more time, I'll shoot it myself!"

Williams nodded and gripped his rifle tightly. "Yes Sergeant Major!"

He glared at the young man and then turned to scan for the approaching reinforcements again. Finally a Striker appeared, dodging explosive rounds as it headed for them. BeachHead lifted his rifle and squeezed off triple bursts at the following Cobra STUN vehicles. "Give him some cover fire.. get that STUN at four o'clock... take it down!" His support troopers fired, and two of the attacking vehicles ground to a halt, one catching fire. When a third blew up, the remaining two veered off.

The Joe assault vehicle continued at them at high speed, looking out of control. One of the greenshirts turned and ran for nearby cover, followed by a few others. The Striker hit a crater left by a missile and flew up in the air, skewing around wildly before straightening and beelining for them again. Dusty slammed the Striker around, bringing it to a stop within a few feet of the unflinching Sergeant.

BeachHead sneered at the desert rat. "You drive like a girl!"

Dusty climbed out, aiming and firing at a nearby clump of BATs that had appeared. "Since CoverGirl is the best driver there is, I think I'll take that as a compliment!" He ducked as the BATs concentrated fire at him. "A little help here?"

BeachHead looked over at the recruits. "What are you doing hiding over there?! Get yer sorry butts on the line, take out those stupid walking bits of armor!" His shouting made them all scramble and in short order the robot enemy were down and sparking and twitching. "Someone pry the ammo outa them pieces of junk, we'll need it."

He pulled the heavy boxes out of the back of the Striker, immediately stuffing a few clips of ammunition into his various pockets. His troops resupplied as well, and Dusty handed out the new weapons.

Dusty grunted. "Duke is on the right flank, and Hawk is at the mobile command center. I'm all that Duke could spare right now. He got word from command. They said to stay in touch via your comm unit."

Beach grunted at that. "The stupid thing squeels in my ear." He pulled his headset out of his vest, peeling off the balaclava before putting the comm unit on. Once he replaced the head covering, he pulled the mic down and clicked it on. "Roger roger, BeachHead online." He immediately got a reply.

Hawk's voice sounded out of breath. "_Beach.. we're moving command to the fall back position.. give me a sit-rep and your twenty..."_

Grimacing and crouching behind the tumbled armor, the sergeant thought about the lay-out. "Yes Sir. I'm holding on the left flank, got a dozen greens and Dusty. We lost both our Maulers to those danged Rattlers."

There was a bit of static and BeachHead thumped himself in the ear to jar the earpiece into working again.

_"....sssssszzzzz... Duke on forward thrust.. get into position.. sssszzzzzttttt... want flanked..."_

He thumped his earpiece harder and it clicked twice and cleared up. "Say again.. all repeat.. say again."

_"I'm moving Duke.. sssssskkkTKKTTTKKK.. the forward thrust, you get into.. ssssszzztttt..... position, I don't want to get flanked.. RRRTTTTZZZZ.. a squad of HISS tanks."_

BeachHead frowned. "Say again, what's my new position?" He straightened a little, trying to get line of sight for better reception on the comm something snapped his ear sharply. He grunted and reached up to thump at the comm unit and neatly cut his palm on a bit of sharp plastic. "Aww piece of junk.."

Dusty watched him dump his heavy pack off. He moved his lightweight bag from where it was slung across his belly to onto his back. The trooper shook his head, squeezing off a few rounds when one of the STUNs swung back nearby.

"What are you doing? What's our orders?"

BeachHead slapped a new clip into his rifle. "My comm is busted, I gotta go get orders in person." He stood and peered out quickly, letting loose with a few rounds that took out the enemy gunner neatly.

One of the greenies grabbed at his arm. "Sergeant Major! You can't run out there unprotected! You're gonna get killed!" Ignoring the worried young man, BeachHead crouched and moved to the corner of the wreck they were using for cover.

Dusty shook his head. "You can't take the Striker.. we're gonna need it to provide roaming support on us here.. " He lifted up and fired a few rounds at the approaching STUNs again. "Those guys are getting irksome.."

BeachHead looked over the area again, and checked the location of the two STUNs which continued to circle closer, firing and veering away. "Beck! You get in that Striker, and chase down those STUNs, take Miller and Goon as gunners, the rest of you, stick with Dusty." There was a short chorus of affirmative yelps, and he turned to the desert trooper. "I'm going to check in with Hawk, find out what the heck is going on, while you take care of my greenshirts here. You hold this spot, don't let Cobra get past." Without looking, he reached over and yanked Williams down again, just as a bullet pinged off the rim of the armor piece he'd been about to look over. "Try not to let Williams here die before I get back."

Dusty looked down at the sandy haired young man who was scrambling back to his feet. "I'll try my best. You try not to get shot too many times getting over to Hawk, 'kay? I don't want to have to do PT under some new drill sergeant, I'm just getting used to you."

BeachHead grinned under his mask. "Awww.. I'm tearing up here, really. I'll be right back." He sprinted off suddenly, firing short bursts at the oncoming STUN that was concentrating on their Striker just driving away rather than the men on the ground. The Cobra gunner tumbled off, and the driver swerved wildly, trying to get away from the Joe vehicle on it's tail. BeachHead continued running at an angle away from their position, dodging around wreckage and bomb holes in the ground.

Williams lifted his head up to watch. "Do you suppose he'll make it?"

Dusty grinned briefly, then swatted the greenshirt on top of his helmet. "Make it? Jeez, I'd feel sorry for any Cobra troops that get in his way."

The greenie shook his head. "But what if he gets shot? There's a lot of rounds flying back and forth out there!"

The desert trooper aimed carefully and fired, picking off another Cobra gunner before he replied. "HA! Don't you know? It don't matter where you shoot ole BeachHead.. he's just too mean to go and die on us."

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Well, that's chapter one! Anyone like it? I'll try to post a chapter a day until it's done. Some chapters will be short, and you guys will have to just suck it up and deal with short chapters! The entire fic is only about 5K words.

Please feel free to review! Suggestions, ideas, comments, all welcome.


	2. Chapter 2: CoverGirl

So here's the second chapter! BeachHead finds CoverGirl on the battlefield.

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BeachHead dove down behind a decent sized rock. A loud series of blasts jarred the ground under him as a full spread of missiles crashed within a few hundred feet. Bits of metal, rocks and sand showered down over him, and he grimaced. Sitting up, he looked around, checking to see if any of the wreckage was usable. He spotted one of the heavy duty Wolverines nearby, showing the entire cab destroyed by a missile strike. He tried to stay calm and dispassionate as he looked for the markings.

"Dang it." It was CoverGirl's vehicle, and no sign of the tank jockey anywhere nearby. He glanced over at the next piece of cover he was headed for, and then turned and ran for the disabled Wolverine instead. Running around the back of it for cover, he tripped on a jumble of metal armor bits and fell heavily. There was a loud yelp and he rolled over, pointing his rifle at the person underneath.

"Well don't shoot me Beach! I'll pay for the stupid tank!" He gaped and then got up to drag the metal chunk off of the slender woman pinned under it. "Ow.. stupid Cobra! Look what they did to my Wolverine! I just got it all tuned up too!"

He grunted and reached to drag her to the side under better cover. "You idiot.. laying out in the dang-blamed open! Do you want some Cobra trooper to shoot you?" Trying to sound casual and not scared and upset, he ran to the corner of the wrecked tank, looking to check for any hostiles headed their way. "It's clear right now.." He came back and crouched to look at her. "You okay?"

She nodded and patted herself down. "Yeah.. just mad! I was pinned under that chunk of armor plate.. just bruised up now. Thanks." He turned loose of his rifle and took her jaw in one hand, turning her face up to him. "I'm fine, leggo."

He turned loose and dragged a bandana off his arm where he had it tied. "Here.. your nose is all bloody. Doesn't look broke."

She took the cloth and wiped at her face a little. It smeared more than it cleaned, but he stepped away to check their area again. "Thanks. I'm fine, I'm just on foot with no vehicle and no weapon. My rifle was in the cab.. I think it might have been damaged in the blast."

BeachHead grinned at her sarcasm. The cab was nonexistent from the missile strike. If there had been a rifle in there, the component parts were scattered over the sand with the rest of the control panel. He dropped his pack off his back and unclipped his secondary short assault rifle to hand to her. Digging in pockets brought out ammo clips and she loaded it up and racked the slide. "I'm hot." She raised up and poked her head around to check for hostiles and then looked at him. "What?"

His grin widened. "You are hot." She rolled her eyes and he got serious. "Alright Barbiedoll, I left Dusty and my greenshirts back thataway. You go join up with them.. Dusty has a Striker, if he ain't got it blown up yet. You'll do fine back there." He looked out to see where he was headed next and she put a hand on his shoulder.

Her voice sounded a little peeved. "What do you mean, 'go back there'? I'm going with you."

He swung his face around to her. "Listen up Barbie! You'll go where I tell you to go, when I tell you to go there! And you'll do it NOW!" His sharp tone made her step back slightly. "That's your orders." He turned away again. "I ain't gonna be draggin' you all the way across the field, just to drag you back. There's no point. You can do more good back with Dusty, he needs all the hands he can get right now."

She scowled. "I don't want you sending me off where it's safe.."

He blew out an exasperated breath. "You idiot. It ain't any safer with Dusty and a dozen greenshirts than it is right here. I'm making a run to get orders and hopefully a comm unit that danged well works. I left Dusty with a bunch of recruits trying to take out two STUNs and god knows what else has shown up since I left." He peered up into the sky, judging the approach of a pair of Rattlers. "If they ain't gotten their one Striker destroyed, then they danged well need a real driver on it. Beck can't double-park a truck, much less dodge a pair of STUNs. So get yourself over there, and be useful."

CoverGirl pushed a strand of loose hair out of her face, looking at the severe man standing against the side of her wrecked tank. "You'll be careful, right?" He reached to unclip a grenade and tucked it into her thigh pocket.

His voice was still gruff. "I'll be fine." She sighed and put the rifle sling around her shoulder to get ready to make a run for the nearby rocks. He looked around at her for only a second, and then turned loose of the heavy rifle to reach and squeeze her arm. "Don't get shot, Barbiedoll. I'll see you in a few.."

She felt his fingers slip away and wished he'd at least look at her like he cared. "You neither, you big dumb rock." He put a hand on her back and shoved her down just as the Rattlers screamed overhead. The blast only threw sand over them, and he was up and running before she could thank him. She watched his figure running across the dusty battlefield and sighed. Even as she stood up to get ready to move out, she saw him bring his rifle up and fire, taking out two BAT troops that appeared without ever slowing down in his run.

She sprinted the other direction, hoping she could run into Dusty and his group before she ran out of bullets for her borrowed weapon.

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I guess there's just not many BeachHead fans. That's okay. Hope you enjoy it anyway!


	3. Chapter 3: Command central

BeachHead makes it to the command center. Hawk and his group are in the trenches dug into the fall back area of the battlefield.

This chapter is the longest chapter, because frankly, there's no real good spot to break it, and hey.. not many people are reading it anyway, so I doubt there's any real reason to cut chapters shorter.

For those that ARE reading and enjoying, thank you for reading, and I hope you are enjoying one of the lesser-loved characters! I think it's great fun!

Onto the the story!

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BeachHead ran for the fall-back area with it's trenches and foxholes. When he got closer he had to dodge back away, as a pair of FANGs dove down at him, firing rapid pulse rounds into the ground, walking their way towards him as he ran for cover. He dropped behind another wrecked HISS tank just before the stream of bullets caught up to him, and ducked as pieces of shrapnel whined around him. He felt a sting on his leg and glanced down to see a nasty tear in his fatigue pants.

"Dang it.. now I'm gonna bleed all over my boots." He poked the tear, checking that it was a minor cut and then ignored it. Poking his head up, he watched one FANG sweep around to the north while the second headed back towards his position. It dropped down low to the ground, and began firing at him again.

Bullets spanged off the metal plate and he hoped that there wasn't any stress cracks that would give way under the multiple assaults. Pulling out a grenade, he snatched the pin as the FANG got closer, and threw it up at the rotors when it passed overhead. It missed the spinning blades entirely, but fell into the cockpit where the pilot fumbled frantically to get it back out. Too late, as it exploded and BeachHead ducked under the HISS wreck as the one-person copter fell out of the sky and crashed.

"Well.. that worked just fine.." He took off again, trying to make it to the middle trench before the second FANG returned. Sprinting hard, he hugged his rifle in tight and listened to the rotor engines get louder as it made the flight approach behind him. His leg pumped hard, propelling him as fast as he could, hoping it would be fast enough to outrun the rounds that suddenly began ripping the ground behind him.

"MAKE A HOLE!" He dove headfirst into the trench, barely noting the other Joes jerking out of his way before he slammed onto his back into the dirt wall. "OOOMPH!" He kicked and struggled his way upright, poking his rifle up out of the trench at the FANG that flew overhead. Firing off a three round burst, he clipped the tail slightly but it still flew off, albeit with a slight wobble. "YEAH!! You better run! Next time I'll throw a rock at you!"

"BeachHead? What the blue blazes are you doing here?" He turned and looked at Hawk crouched with Flint and Scarlett. Breaker sat in the dirt behind them, with the mobile communications pack set up in front of him.

The sergeant whacked his rifle to knock the dirt loose from it and moved at a crouch over to the general, saluting him briefly. "Sir.. my comm unit ain't working. Piece of junk. I couldn't get orders, so I came to see what you wanted us to do, and to give you a situation report on the left flank."

Shaking his head, his commander pointed at him. "You ran on foot across the battlefield, with no back up?" Beach tilted his head and nodded, obviously confused at him stating the obvious. Hawk jerked his head at Breaker. "Give Breaker your comm unit. See if he can fix it. I'll get your report in a second." He turned back to Scarlett and Flint, discussing Duke's situation while BeachHead moved to Breaker, bent over to keep his head below the edge of the trench.

Breaker held out a hand for the unit, and BeachHead pulled his balaclava off to drag the comm off his head and hand it over. Breaker glanced at it, then stared, tilting it around to look at the busted earpiece.

"BeachHead.. this thing was hit by a bullet!"

The sergeant snorted. "Piece of junk, it stopped working."

Breaker stared at him. "It was hit by a bullet, geez.. were you wearing it?!?" He leaned forward to tilt BeachHead's head over slightly before he yanked away. "Your ear is bleeding."

BeachHead snorted at him and reached up to finger his ear. "Oh.. yeah, it stung a little. Fix the dumb thing for me, would ya? I gotta get back over to the left flank." He turned and moved back over next to Hawk, dropping to one knee to wait. Tugging out a new clip for his rifle, he changed it out, and pulled loose rounds to reload the partially used clip while he waited.

"Alright Beach.. what's the sit-rep over on your side?" BeachHead ran through the details quickly. "We're about to get hit over there. Cobra has a few more STUNs headed over that direction. Both the Maulers are down, what about the Wolverines?"

BeachHead looked away uncomfortably. "CoverGirl's is out, I sent her back to Dusty, at least she might be able to do something useful with a Striker. We need some heavy support over there, or we're gonna get rolled big time."

Hawk nodded and turned to discuss armored support with Flint and Stalker, looking over a layout of the battlefield. Lifeline duck-walked over to poke BeachHead in his side.

"You want me to take a look at that?"

BeachHead looked down at his bloody leg. "Aww.. naw. It's just a cut. Be fine." Lifeline motioned him down and he crouched next to the medic who began to check the side of his head. "It's fine too, just a nick."

Lifeline shook his head. "Yeah, it looks okay, let me clean it really quick while you're sitting still. I thought it looked like your headgear had blood all over the side.. " BeachHead pulled his balaclava out from under his harness strap. Poking a finger through the hole in the side of it, he made a face. "Look, better your mask than your head. You were lucky, looks like the bullet just clipped your ear a little bit."

The sergeant grimaced and tucked the mask back under the strap across his chest, making sure it didn't hang up on one of the grenades. "Yeah, the bullet hit my comm unit. Breaker is fixing it."

Lifeline nodded. "You said CoverGirl lost her tank, did you see her? Was she hurt?"

Shifting uncomfortably, BeachHead shook his head. "Yeah, she was okay, I sent her off to find the rest of my greenshirt unit. I think she's mad at me." Lifeline made a questioning noise while he wiped disinfectant in his ear. "She thought I was sending her off the field to be safe or something stupid."

"Were you?" He glared at Lifeline. "Well, you know, sometimes people make decisions like that when they care about someone."

Grumbling, he pushed the hand away from the side of his head. "Yeah.. well that ain't me. I sent her where she could do the most good in this battle, not to some safe spot on the sidelines."

Lifeline gave him a look and then began to finish cleaning his ear, despite his objections. "Sit still, I'm almost done. Maybe she thinks you don't like her? You give her a hard time."

The sergeant snorted at him. "I like her fine. I ride her case 'cause she needs some discipline, and we need her in peak shape. If'n I don't make them, most of the Joe's would slack off their training, and you danged well know it."

The medic shrugged. "I can see that. I know I'd probably be a cream puff without you around to make me work at the PT. But sometimes.. you know.. certain people you might be more.. fond of.. let's say.. might need a little bit of reassurance, a small sign that you are just doing your job, and not angry over something personal."

BeachHead scowled briefly. "You mean.. I should do something nice for her, so she knows I care? Shouldn't she already know I care? I mean..." He suddenly blushed. "I can't believe I'm having this conversation in a trench in the middle of a battlefield. Geez o pete! This is the stupidest thing.." He grabbed up his rifle and raised up in a crouch. Turning around to point at Lifeline, he growled loudly. "You need to keep your mind on the battle. And... " He frowned more. "And you ARE a cream puff!" He moved down to the far side of Hawk and the others. Lifeline shook his head and moved down the line to check on anyone else needing treatment.

There was a shout from RockNRoll suddenly. "We got HISS tanks moving in."

BeachHead stood up, taking in the approaching two heavy tanks and checking the surrounding area. He dropped back into a crouch. "Sir.. we got any tanks or armored vehicle to spare?"

Hawk shook his head grimly. "No.. I'm calling in Ace and LiftTicket, but there's no way they'll get here in time to stop those HISS tanks. They've been trying to tie up those blasted Rattlers."

BeachHead lifted up and fired a few rounds at the lead tank. The bullets spanged off next to the gunner visible at the top hatch and he pointed and shouted. The tank headed for their trench and the sergeant dropped back down.

Flint yelled at him. "What are you doing? He's headed right for us now!"

BeachHead nodded, moving down the trench to the pack he'd spotted when he tumbled in. "Yeah, don't worry, the trenches are too narrow for him to fall in. The bigger armored vehicles will roll right over top. Long as the walls don't fall in, we'll be fine." He pulled ShortFuse from the edge of the trench. "Where's your arming wire?" The mortar gunner grabbed a small pack and tossed it over, going back to firing at a small group of Cobra troops.

BeachHead snatched out a control timer and dug in the pack laying to one side. A brick of C4 appeared and he poked the lead wires of the timer into it, pressing firmly to be sure they were in place properly. Then he pulled his combat knife out, peeling the plastic wrapping off the backside of the lump, exposing the sticky explosive clay. A few taps on the control box and it began to blink '10' over and over. "Ten seconds ought to be plenty of time, don't you think so?"

Flint stared at him, horrified. "What are you doing? Did you just arm a whole brick of C4 in the trench with us? Are you insane?!"

The distracted sergeant raised up to look, and then grumbled at the sight of the tank heading for the trench towards his left. He propped his rifle up on the edge and fired a short burst, seeing the gunner get hit and fall down into the tank. It immediately swerved to head for the end of their trench and he cursed.

"Stupid Cobra tank drivers! I swear!" He began to run awkwardly, crouched over and trying not to step on anyone else in the trench as he moved down the line to where the tank was going to hit. "Move.. move!! Get out of my way!" He nearly stepped on Lifeline, and then tripped when Bazooka dodged the same direction as him. "Make a danged hole!! I got C4 here!"

Hawk stared after him stumbling down the trench holding the plastic explosive. "Is that thing set for ten seconds?"

Flint looked at him. "I don't THINK he's turned the timer on yet..."

They looked down as the HISS tank approached, the sergeant scrambling to reach that section of trench before it. Suddenly the tank swerved slightly, and BeachHead screamed in frustration. "DANG IT!! MAKE UP YER MIND!!!" He whipped himself around to dodge back up the trench. As the heavy tank passed over their heads, everyone dove to the bottom to cover their heads with their arms, except BeachHead, who stood up and slammed the explosive onto the underside of the HISS tank just as it passed over him. Everyone sat up and stared as he poked his head over the edge and watched it heading further past their fall-back position.

Suddenly he dropped down into the bottom. "Get down!!"

There was a huge explosion and debris rained down on them. Shouts and yelling sounded all down the trench and Hawk shook his head.

Flint brushed dirt off his beret and replaced it. "That's one crazy sergeant we got."

Hawk nodded and stood to take stock of the situation. Then he looked down at where BeachHead was standing on tiptoe peering to see what wreckage was left of the attacking tank. "BEACH!!! GET DOWN!!"

Without looking to check, the sergeant major dropped straight down, and was narrowly missed by the treads of the second HISS tank grinding over top of where he had just been. He had a startled look on his face and held his hands up to protect himself from falling bits of rock. It was unusual to be able to see his expression, since normally his face was mostly covered up by his headgear. Now he looked angry and grabbed his rifle up and leapt to his feet.

"HEY!! Don't you try to run ME over!!" Before anyone could stop him, he scrambled up and out of the trench.

Hawk stared at the dirt edge, still crouched down. Then he turned his head to Flint, his voice calm and only slightly confused sounding. "Did my drill sergeant just jump out to chase down a HISS tank on foot, armed with only a rifle?"

Flint stared at him for a second. "Yes sir. I believe he did."

They sat for a few seconds quietly. Hawk looked at the warrant officer. "How's he doing?"

Flint got up and stood tiptoe to peer over the edge of their trench. Then he crouched back down. "I think he might be catching up to it. He's definitely still yelling at it."

Hawk shook his head and sighed. "God help it's armored soul. And thank god he's on our side." He turned to Scarlett. "Get me a report from Duke, is there any way he can spare a Mauler to send over to the left flank?" She shook her head and pulled the map over.

After a few minutes of discussion, Flint was discussing what vehicles they might be able to send out to Dusty's approximate location to help support them and to get new orders to them when there was a loud rumble.

Flint grabbed his rifle and checked. "That tank is headed back." Everyone began to take cover in preparation for it to roll over top of the trench again. Instead, it ground to a halt within several feet of the edge and the turrant door flipped open.

BeachHead clambered up to sit on the edge of the opening. "General Hawk.. I got a tank. Can I have it for the left flank?"

Hawk blinked at him, then looked at Flint. Flint stared at the sergeant sitting there looking hopeful before he turned to the general. "Well... he captured it.. I guess he should be able to keep it.. right?"

Hawk shook his head, rubbing his temples. "Yeah sure. Go take the tank and try to hold off Cobra on the left flank. You better mark it so the other Joe's don't shoot you though." BeachHead nodded and Breaker threw a flag up at him.

"Here!! Drape this on the front!" Shaking it out, BeachHead fastened the stars and stripes across the front. He reached down to take the new comm unit from Breaker and fasten it into place. Then he pulled the balaclava loose from his harness and tugged it back on. Climbing back in, he paused for a moment.

Looking down into the trench, he spotted Lifeline. "Hey medic!! I'm gonna take this tank to CoverGirl.. girls like presents, right?"

Lifeline controlled the smile, with an obvious effort. Then he gave the sergeant a thumbs up. "Yeah! Good idea!"

Beach grinned and dropped inside, clanking the door back shut and gunning the engines. The tank lurched backwards a few feet. A muffled curse sounded from inside the tank, several grinding noises issued from it, and finally it rumbled forward, rolling over the trench carefully before it roared up to speed, disappearing into the dust. They heard the guns go off a few times before it faded away.

Hawk took a very deep breath. "That... was surreal."

Flint had a very puzzled look on his face. "You know Sir... I'm not sure what bothers me the most. Whether it's that BeachHead has unbent enough to consider getting a girlfriend... whether it's that he thinks an appropriate gift would be a captured enemy tank.. or that the girl in question will not only be pleased at it, but also think it's the sweetest gift anyone has ever gotten her."

Hawk shook his head. "Please don't share anymore. I already have a headache. Contact Duke and find out what's happening on his side."

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	4. Chapter 4: Ending

Oh my, it's the last chapter! Yep, already.

* * * *

Rumbling across the battlefield, BeachHead took great pleasure in blowing apart a couple of Cobra FANGs that dipped down within range. He narrowly missed getting hit by some friendly fire twice. He berated the Joes in question loudly, pointing at the flag across the front. One group barely acknowledged him, but sped off in pursuit of the Cobra STUNs they had been chasing, the other gave him strange looks, but waved him on.

Finally he spotted the battered AWE Striker racing along a shallow ditch. They had two STUNs on their tail, and BeachHead drove the HISS tank right in between them. The STUNs veered off, dodging away before he could get to the gun turrant to aim at them. He flipped the door open and screamed at the Striker as it came closer.

"COVERGIRL!!! HEY DUSTY!! GET OVER HERE!" He was treated to several stunned looks as the greenshirts and Dusty poked heads out from behind the wreckage they had been using for cover. The Striker pulled up and slammed to a stop next to him and he spread his hands out to indicate the captured tank.

CoverGirl poked her head over the edge of the destroyed Mauler. "BeachHead!! You made it back!" He watched the former model come diving out and run over. She climbed up the side and he was practically tackled as she hugged him.

"Ooomph.. hey.. I brought you a tank. It's no Wolverine.. but it's the best I could do on short notice." She grinned at him and poked her head down into the hatch to look at the inside.

"It's great! And to think, most girls get chocolates and flowers!" He pulled his legs out of the hatchway, trying not to kick her head as she shoved herself further in, hanging down into it. "Wow.. twin thirty millimeter guns.. transverse firing.. this is great!" She pulled herself back up and grabbed him around the neck to hug him again, despite his struggling. When she turned loose, he nearly fell backwards off the top of the tank, while she dropped down into it.

"Yeah yeah.. " He cleared his throat and tugged his mask a little, eying Dusty who was standing to one side grinning at him. He ignored it, and yelled down into the tank. "Can you drive this stupid thing?"

She snorted loudly, clanks and bangs coming from inside. "Of course I can!" He bent to look in and nearly caught the butt end of his rifle in the head as she poked it out of the hatch to him. "Here.. take your big scary gun and go shoot some things, I'm going to go take out those stupid STUNs that have been chasing us!" He grabbed the rifle by the strap and jumped off as she gunned the engines.

He watched her speed off, the distant shapes of the Cobra vehicles moving to intercept. Dusty walked up and gave him a thump on the back.

"Boy.. you really know how to treat a girl nice." He was glared at. "What?"

BeachHead slung his rifle strap into place and pulled the clip to check it. "Mount up, Dusty, you're driving, Goon on the main gun, where the heck is Williams? Did you let him get shot?"

Williams trotted over. "No Sergeant Major!! I'm right here!" BeachHead kicked him sideways, just as there was a 'ping' and a bullet ricocheted off a nearby rock, zipping through the spot he'd been in, just as he stumbled out of the way. The sergeant sighed heavily and slammed his clip back into the rifle and worked the slide.

"Geez o pete.. some things ain't never gonna change. I told you not to die out here. Keep yer head down! We're headed over to take out that platoon to the northwest.. without any vehicle support, they'll be sitting ducks." He glanced around to make sure of his unit, the AWE Striker already cranking up and heading for the nearby trio of Cobra troops that had just started to fire at them. "Alright girls, let's go take 'em out!"

The group charged towards the enemy. "YO JOE!!!"

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Hope you enjoyed the run! I think I'm keeping Williams for later, he's too much fun. Maybe BeachHead needs an assistant. Thanks for the reviews!


	5. Chapter 5: Epilogue

What happens AFTER the battle is over? Why.. another battle on a totally different field.. one that BeachHead unfortunately does NOT excel at.

Sorry that I suddenly continued with this epilogue.. but it was a rabid plot bunny. Had to kill it somehow.

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In the Pit:

"I'm just sayin' that you're a great driver!" BeachHead stalked along the hallway, trailed by an angry CoverGirl.

She snorted. "Yeah.. and what was the part about me being infantry?"

He shook his head. "What does it matter that you're half useless on the field without a vehicle, Cinderella? As long as you got a tank or something, you're better than any other Joe we got." He suddenly ducked and tried to dodge as she beat at his back with her fists. "Ow!! Stop it woman!! Dang it!"

She stood clenching her fists, ready to spit she was so mad. "You're such a jerk! I'm not useless!! I'm just as good in the field as anyone!"

"Yeah right! If you stick to a vehicle, you're great, but you aren't big enough! Heck, a full field pack just about outweighs you! That's not your fault, you're just too lightweight to be effective!" His reasoning didn't go over well and he rolled his eyes. "Look Barbiedoll, stick to what you do good, and do your best otherwise, but you'll never match up to one of us infantry in field conditions." He tilted his head at her, hoping she understood he wasn't dissing her for things she couldn't help. That's how he caught the fist to his right eye.

"You big dumb rock!" She stormed off down the hall, and he picked himself up, winking and rubbing his eye.

Feeling to see if it as going to swell up, he turned to go back up the hall and nearly walked into Lifeline. "Whoa.. sorry. Didn't see you there."

Lifeline leaned to look at CoverGirl as she disappeared. "You know Beach.. you're a good guy, but you have a thing for the 'one step forward - three steps back'... don't you?"

BeachHead snorted. "I dunno what you're talkin' about." He stepped around the medic and headed up to his office.

Much to his annoyance, the medic followed him. "Well, I thought you had the idea, with the being nice to her, you know. But it's pretty apparent that you sort of screwed it up."

"I have been nice to her. I don't know what you're talking about! Besides.. why should I bother being nice in the first place? She doesn't want anything to do with me, why should I need to do anything to make her happy?" He scowled and felt at his eye again. She packed a nasty punch when she got mad, and when she hit you in the eye, you sure knew you'd been hit. Of course, she'd probably break a knuckle if she hit him in the jaw.

Lifeline stepped into his office after him. "Of course you should be doing things to make her happy. Didn't you say you thought she liked you? Didn't you say you might even like her back some? What changed?" He was answered with a grunt. "Oh.. come on. And if you say the words 'no fraternizing' I'll punch you in the eye myself."

The sergeant tilted his head at him in a scowl. "Yeah right. You useless pacifist, you wouldn't punch me if I was strangling you to death."

Lifeline crossed his arms. "You didn't answer me."

"No, I didn't." BeachHead seated himself at his desk, and dragged out his performance review reports to work on. "It doesn't matter. It was stupid for me to even think anything could happen. I'm higher in rank than her, and besides, she's the most gorgeous woman on base, why would she want to think about me?"

Lifeline sat in one of the chairs and leaned on the front of the desk. "Why would she? Does it matter? She's obviously still thinking about you. Otherwise, why would she get so angry over your opinion? She wants you to think well of her. And if you think about it, CoverGirl doesn't really care about most people's opinions of her." He got no response, but he saw the papers being flipped slow down as the sergeant thought that over. "She wants to be in your good graces, because you matter to her. If she didn't care, she wouldn't be after you to ask about her performance on the field, she wouldn't be upset if you thought she was off, and she certainly wouldn't try so hard to make you proud in every way she can."

Now the ranger stopped pretending to be interested in the paperwork. He flipped the file closed and put his elbows up on he desk, resting his head in both hands. "Lifeline.. there's no reason for her to be interested in me. I don't know what to do.. what does she want?"

The medic sighed. "Why can't you at least try to be her friend?"

Dropping his hands to the desktop, the sergeant stared at him. "Don't you think I'm trying?!? I told her she's the best driver we have." He sighed. "This stuff is too hard."

Lifeline reached over and gave his hand a quick reassuring pat. "If you'd stop at the 'best driver', you'd do fine. Just don't point out the 'not good enough' in other ways next time."

"That's ridiculous! How is she supposed to improve her shortcomings if I sugarcoat everything?" Suddenly the sergeant was up and moving, urging Lifeline out of his office. "You're being crazy anyway. Nothing is going to happen, and it's just a waste of time to bother thinking about it. I have work to do." Despite his protests, Lifeline was pushed out and had the door click shut in his face.

He pressed his lips together and then turned to walk away, muttering under his breath at the stubbornness of BeachHead.

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End Chapter.. end story! Really!! It is the end!! Seriously this time! SHUT UP Lil Beachie! I'm NOT adding anything more!


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